


Trust Fall

by egocentrifuge



Category: Mythical Entertainment, Rhett & Link
Genre: Blindfolds, Bondage, Bottom!Rhett, Dom!Link, M/M, Prostate Massage, Sub!Rhett, a bit subspacey?, humping, it's definitely bdsm now that i read it again lol, so much praise....
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-03
Updated: 2020-02-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:24:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22550158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/egocentrifuge/pseuds/egocentrifuge
Summary: “More fingers,” Rhett pleads. He needs something to distract him, some other sensation to take the edge off of the ruthless massage. It’s not a surprise when Link only clucks his tongue, but it still makes Rhett’s belly swoop as he pictures Link shaking his head.“You’re gonna come from just this,” Link tells him, almost chiding. “I’ll do it as long as it takes, Rhett."
Relationships: Rhett McLaughlin/Link Neal
Comments: 7
Kudos: 61





	Trust Fall

**Author's Note:**

> this was a commission for bleakcreek and i absolutely love how it turned out. it's also just straight up smut, moreso than my usual smut. hell yeah.

Warm hands run up Rhett’s arms, testing the padded cuffs holding his wrists in place at the headboard. Rhett can feel the tremor in them, even now, but where it might annoy others it’s soft, warm, familiar. 

“Let me know if your shoulders start hurting,” Link says, not for the first time. Rhett huffs a laugh into the pillow, too fond and too vulnerable right now to be anything but reassured by the fretting.

“I will,” he promises. Link’s hands trail down his neck, his back - all bare skin, naked and exposed. Rhett would normally hate being put on display like this with no way to see what he looks like, or to see anything at all, but being bound, blindfolded… it all adds up, has Rhett swirling in sensation instead of his own thoughts for once.

“Good gosh,” Link murmurs, at Rhett’s ass now. He pulls apart Rhett’s cheeks like it’s nothing, like it’s his to do; Rhett swallows down a whimper. 

“You’re freaking gorgeous. You know that, Rhett? So freaking pretty like this, all spread out for me.”

Rhett squirms at Link’s soft words, at the thumb brushing across his opening. 

“Link,” he mumbles, plaintive, but he doesn’t know what he’s asking for until Link gives it to him, a smooth push of - what is it, two fingers? inside where Rhett’s already cleaned out, slick. Rhett can’t keep the groan inside, this time, not when Link’s rubbing against Rhett’s prostate easy as anything. 

“You open for me so easy,” Link says quietly. The words shiver up Rhett’s body, go straight to his head. “Feels like you were meant for this, don’t it, baby? Never knew what you were missing until I gave it to you, isn’t that right?”

“Link,” Rhett repeats, but when he tries to arch back into Link’s touch the rhythmic stroking fades, leaves him empty and shaking. Rhett curses, bereft.

“Let me, man,” Link chides, hands returning to knead at Rhett’s ass. “I’ll give you what you need, Rhett, you just gotta take it.” His voice is soft, honeyed, though Rhett can hear the undercurrent of a smile. He shies away from Link’s touch, just a bit, just for pleasure of Link chasing him up the bed. Each open-mouthed kiss to Rhett’s skin has goosebumps rising in their wake.

“Come on,” Link wheedles, not smiling now. “Let me take care of you, baby.”

It’s stupid, being so affected by Link saying this kind of shit, but Rhett’s hard-pressed to care right now. The fight goes out of him in a shivery breath and he relaxes back against the sheets. They’re silky smooth and almost too cool for comfort against Rhett’s leaking cock, but he can feel the smears of precome he’s left against them and it’s only adding to the cotton filling his ears.

“That’s it,” Link praises. He kisses Rhett’s neck, brings one hand around to tease against Rhett’s sensitive nipples. “Trust me, Rhett. I’ve got you.”

By the time Link makes his way back down Rhett’s body, stopping to lavish attention on each knob of Rhett’s spine, Rhett’s aching to be filled, and true to his word, Link gives Rhett what he needs. He finds Rhett’s prostate again without any fuss, sliding his fingers back in while his other hand holds Rhett open. The pressure is maddening - too much almost immediately, while also not being enough, and as Link falls into a small circular pattern Rhett realizes he’s whining.

“Relax,” Link says, not pausing in the slightest. “I know it’s a lot, buddyroll, but you’ve just got to give into it.”

“More fingers,” Rhett pleads. He needs something to distract him, some other sensation to take the edge off of the ruthless massage. It’s not a surprise when Link only clucks his tongue, but it still makes Rhett’s belly swoop as he pictures Link shaking his head.

“You’re gonna come from just this,” Link tells him, almost chiding. “I’ll do it as long as it takes, Rhett." 

Before Rhett can curse or groan or do more than shudder where he’s bound, helpless, Link shifts his weight on the bed so he can nuzzle against the small of Rhett’s back. The sting of his stubble against Rhett’s sensitive skin is grounding, is a relief. 

"Just like this,” Link repeats warmly. “You can do it, Rhett, I know you can. You’re gonna be so freaking good for me, aren’t you?”

There’s pressure building where Link’s touching, a radiating ache and burn and urgency that always turned Rhett off to this when he’d tried it on his own. But like this, he can’t stop and alleviate the feeling by finding something easier, jerking off on his own. Like this, it’s all Rhett can do to take it.

“Fuck, Link,” he manages, thighs trembling. It - Rhett can’t tell if it feels good, can’t tell if it’s too much, if this is even right. His stomach aches, abs clenching like he’s going to be sick, and everything in him is trying to pull back from whatever’s on the horizon. 

“Trust me,” Link’s saying, mouth moving against Rhett’s skin, still rubbing away brutally. “Let it happen, Rhett, come on. I’ve got you. Come on, baby, give it to me. That’s it, that’s it, Rhett - so freaking hot - ”

It’s not so much a crescendo as it is a crash. One second Rhett’s muscles are shaking around _too much_ , and the next it clicks into _just right._ He feels it everywhere - his ass, his cock, his toes to his tingling fingertips. Clench and release and clench and release and on and on until Rhett’s gasping wetly, and even then there’s aftershocks startling him back into motion. 

Link, at least, has stilled his motions, though he’s still mumbling nonsense Rhett can’t quite hear over the roaring in his ears. He knows what Link means, even if he can’t make out the words, and as Rhett’s heartbeat slows the praise trickles in slowly.

“ - amazing, Rhett, you did such a good job. I’m proud of you. It’s not easy but you did it, and you were so incredible - ”

“Link,” Rhett says, then flounders as Link falls silent.

“I’m here,” Link prompts after a moment, laying carefully across Rhett’s back. The warmth and the skin to skin contact jars the words loose from where they’d gotten stuck in Rhett’s throat.

“Kiss me?” he says, though it turns up at the end like it’s a question. Link’s breath ghosts across Rhett’s neck before he’s being nudged onto his knees. The position eases the ache Rhett hadn’t known was building in his shoulders, gives him the freedom to turn his head at Link’s touch.

The kiss is soft, dry. Tender. Rhett’s panting into it, and he knows his eyes aren’t dry under the blindfold, but Link’s calm and solid and steady. Patient in a way Rhett rarely gets to see him as he waits out the waves of endorphins Rhett’s still riding. 

“Arms hurt,” Rhett finally manages, when he’s aware he can’t keep his balance on his knees any longer. Link doesn’t make an annoyed sound or laugh or scold Rhett for not speaking up sooner - quite the opposite, in fact, even as he unclips the cuffs from the headboard and helps Rhett lay down on his back.

“Thank you for telling me,” Link says, and then he’s rubbing gently at where Rhett’s sore, and something amber and trembling swells in Rhett’s chest. He can only hum a little confirmation, giddy and exhausted. Link kisses him again, and Rhett melts into it - he feels, as absurd as it is, taken care of.

“You want your blindfold off?” Link asks; Rhett hesitates before shaking his head.

“Okay,” Link says easily, kissing Rhett again. “Do you want to keep lying down with me?” Another nod. “Is kissing okay?” A crane of Rhett’s neck to kiss Link clumsily himself. It earns a smile Rhett can feel against his lips. 

The next question is harder, though, a non-judgmental, “Do you want to be done?” that has Rhett squirming. As hard as the prostate orgasm had been, he doesn’t want to lose that sensation by coming again, but he’s loathe to end the scene here.

Tentatively, Rhett shakes his head. Link kisses him again, more firmly, and Rhett has enough time to sink into the feeling of Link’s teeth and tongue before Link’s pulling back to speak again.

“Can I grind off against you?” he asks Rhett lowly like it isn’t the filthiest thing Rhett’s ever heard, and Rhett’s gasping and nodding before he can even picture what Link means. He’s being kissed again in the next moment, hard and distracting enough that Rhett doesn’t register Link resettling his weight until a hand lands on his lower belly. 

“Gosh, you’re a mess,” Link mutters, smearing his hand around in the evidence of Rhett’s release. It’s not the same texture as come, is - stickier, almost, as far as Rhett can tell without being able to see, and as he’s trying to catalogue the different sensation something hot and hard slides through the mess. 

It’s Link, Link’s dick, grinding unabashedly against Rhett’s belly. The moan punches out of Rhett without thought, without giving him time to try and hide how the sheer concept of what Link’s doing is affecting him.

“You have no idea what you look like,” Link pants, dick sliding against Rhett’s belly wetly. “Laid out like this, for me, all pink besides your freckles and your hair - ”

Link breaks off to grunt, shift positions until his knees are between Rhett’s legs, his arms bracketing Rhett’s chest giving Link the leverage he needs to keep grinding. It feels - on a physical level, it doesn’t feel like much, but there’s so much more than that going on in Rhett’s head. Picturing it - the hair on his stomach dark where it’s damp, the flush Link’s describing. Rhett, blindfolded, splayed out unmoving like he’s still bound, mouth open to whine helplessly. Link, watching his wanton face, fucking against Rhett’s body because it looks good enough to him to get off against, not even inside - 

“I want to film you,” Link says, breathless, strained. Rhett’s muscles jump and he gasps at how sore and sensitive every part of him is. Link goes on babbling, unchecked.

“I want to show you - shit - the way you look? How you’re acting, because of me, because I got you on your back. Letting me freaking hump you, shit, Rhett. Wanna make you watch it.”

“Do it,” Rhett rasps, startling himself. He swallows to wet his throat and continues hoarsely. “Do it, Link, fucking do it.”

It’s not a good idea, not with cloud storage, but Rhett doesn’t fucking care, wants to see Link’s teeth bared in the snarl Rhett can hear in his voice as he ruts down against Rhett like his mattress when he was a freaking teenager. Wants to be able to watch and rewatch Link losing his rhythm, pushing himself up onto Rhett’s chest to be able to look down and see the way he comes across Rhett’s belly the same as Rhett had, wants to immortalize the moment Link drags his hand through their combined release and rubs it through Rhett’s chest hair. 

As it is, it’s probably for the best there wasn’t a phone within reach. That doesn’t stop Rhett from wanting to give Link what he was running his mouth about, thinking about ways to make it happen without putting their livelihoods at risk as Link settles with a sigh beside Rhett on the bed. 

“There’s jizz in your beard,” Link says after he’s caught his breath, voice almost conversational. Rhett rolls until he can drag Link against him - mess and all - and settles down to decompress.

“It’ll wash out.”

**Author's Note:**

> come find me at egocentrifuge dot tumblr dot com for commission information and more fic! i don't generally post works under 1k to ao3, and believe me, there's a lot of them, as well as various longer but unfinished series.


End file.
